


Baby, I Can't Wait

by thepinupchemist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adolescent Sexuality, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Awkward Sexual Situations, Bottom Castiel, Boyfriends, Established Relationship, First Time, High School, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Teen Romance, Teenagers, Top Dean, Virgin Castiel, Virgin Dean, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-23
Updated: 2014-02-23
Packaged: 2018-01-13 13:09:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1227598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepinupchemist/pseuds/thepinupchemist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel and Dean want their first time to be perfect, and plan it out to a T. It doesn't go well, and after some stupidity, heartache, and eating junk food on the couch alone, they reunite and find that the second time is much better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby, I Can't Wait

**Author's Note:**

  * For [1223rhys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/1223rhys/gifts).



**Soundtrack: To Die A Virgin – The Divine Comedy**

**_Baby, I Can’t Wait_ **

As Castiel pulls his Physics book out of his locker and tucks it under his arm, Charlie jogs across the hallway and flags him down.

“Hello,” Castiel says, “How was the history test?”

“Eh, pretty standard,” Charlie shrugs, “Have you seen Dean today?”

“No, why?” Castiel asks, “Aside from this morning, I mean.” Dean gives Castiel a ride to school every day and has since he got his license. It’s nice, except for some mornings Dean doesn’t ever want to let Castiel out of the Impala because he’d rather make out than go to his first period English class.

Not that Castiel minds being made out with. He loves it, actually.

Beside him, Charlie goes on, “Well, I was thinking the GSA should do like, a Magic: The Gathering night or something.”

“You mean Dungeons & Dragons isn’t enough?” asks Castiel, though he’s only teasing. Truth be told, he loves the GSA’s weekly D&D campaign. They all gather around Charlie’s kitchen table every Saturday afternoon over bowls of M&Ms, mini cans of soda and bags of potato chips. Charlie acts as their Dungeon Master – she’s really good, though Castiel thinks that might be partially due to the fact that she used to play campaigns with her parents as a kid.

Dean makes it all lively while Gilda and Castiel keep the story on track and make sure Dean doesn’t spend the entire game sending his Warlord character into pubs between battles and rolling his dice to see if he got the barmaid pregnant.

“Cas,” Charlie says, “The gameplay of Magic is way different than D&D! For starters, there aren't cards in D&D. And that’s just for starters. Magic doesn't use a board, or figurines, though you can use dice to keep track of your life, I guess…”

“All right, all right,” Castiel says, “I’ve got it.”

“Gettin’ into trouble, you two?”

From the edge of the hallway, Dean strides over to them, backpack strap over one shoulder and a crooked, boyish grin slapped across his face. He places his hand on the small of Cas’ back and draws him forward for a kiss. Not too long, but long enough for Charlie to make a gagging noise beside them and complain, “You guys are gross.”

Dean pulls away from Cas to shoot Charlie a grin and make kissy faces. Charlie shoves him and says, “Cut that out. Oh my God. You can’t treat me this way. I’m your Dungeon Master.”

“Kinky,” Dean says.

“Ugh,” Charlie says back.

“Anyway, I need Cas for a sec,” Dean says, “I’ll give him back later.” He takes Cas by the wrist and pulls him to the side of the hallway.

“Dean, let me go,” Castiel complains, “I have to go to Physics.”

“Just listen to me for a minute,” Dean says, “We can finally do it.”

That perks Castiel right up. He licks his lips and asks, “We can?”

“Two weeks from now is my parents’ anniversary. They’re flying out for a weekend in LA,” Dean says, “and Sam just texted me to ask if I could drive him to some kid’s birthday party because mom and dad are gonna be gone. We’ll have the whole house to ourselves.”

Castiel can’t contain his excitement. He and Dean…they’ve gotten close to penetrative sex (which Dean tells him not to call it because “it sounds weird,” but whatever) but never had the time or space to follow through. Most of the things that they’ve done have been quick and sloppy – a hand job here and there, and a couple times Dean has held Cas down and sucked him off.

“That’s awesome,” Cas finally says. He leans over and pecks a kiss to the tip of Dean’s nose, “Two weeks. Finally. I’m so excited.”

“Me too, baby,” Dean says, “Me too.”

**X**

A handful of days before the planned event, Castiel goes over to Dean’s house for dinner. In general he enjoys being around Dean’s family, even if John Winchester seems vaguely disapproving at times and tends to stay quiet throughout the meal. Mary Winchester makes a mean meal, and by the end of it, Castiel’s belly is full with lasagna and cherry pie. He feels like he could burst when he and Dean slink off to hang out in Dean’s bedroom.

Despite being quiet, Mary still calls to them, “You leave that door open, Dean.”

Dean rolls his eyes but says back, “Yes, mom.”

They do leave the bedroom door open, but it doesn’t matter much anyway. Cas doesn’t need the door shut to show Dean all the information that he’s dug up. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a stack of crinkled pamphlets, setting them on Dean’s Star Wars bedspread.

“What are these?” Dean asks, and picks one up, “‘Safe Sex No Regrets’? Where did you even get this stuff?”

“Planned Parenthood,” Castiel says.

“Huh?”

“I asked at Planned Parenthood,” he repeats, “I wanted to know if they had any information on how to safely participate in anal intercourse and they gave me all of these. And also these.” Cas digs into his other pocket and dumps a collection of condoms and lubricant packets on top of his pamphlets.

Dean doesn’t say anything, so Cas goes on, “I liked them. They were very helpful.”

“I can’t believe – you just walked in there? And you just asked?”

“Yes,” Castiel says, “Mr. Singer suggested it.”

“Mr. Singer – _you asked Bobby_?” Dean makes a face, “Dude, he’s like my second dad.”

“But he’s our health instructor,” Castiel says, “I’m sorry. Was I wrong? I just wanted to make sure that we’re as prepared as possible. Besides, I didn’t say I wanted to have sex with you specifically, just that I thought I would like to have sex. What?”

“Cas, he knows we’re dating,” Dean says.

Castiel glances down at the things spread out on top of Dean’s bedclothes and feels a twinge of guilt. He just wants their first time to be good. It doesn’t have to be perfect – he doesn’t think either of them is into the idea of a ceremonial loss of virginity complete with candles and rose petals – but he does want it to be memorable, to feel good.

“Aw, don’t look like that,” Dean says.

Cas looks up and asks, “Like what?”

“Like that,” Dean says, and gestures to Castiel in his entirety.

“I’m sorry,” Castiel says. He doesn’t know what he’s sorry for, but the words make Dean lean across the space between them and kiss Castiel’s lips. His kiss is hot and heavy. Dean’s tongue slips inside his mouth and strokes along the edges. Dean’s breath comes out through his nostrils against Castiel’s cheek, soft and steady.

Finally, Dean draws from him and says, “Thanks, Cas. You wanna take these first and read up, or should I keep ‘em?”

“I’ve read them,” Castiel says, “I needed something to entertain me on the bus ride back.”

Dean laughs, and Cas cocks his head, confused. He asks, “What’s so funny?”

“Nothin’,” Dean answers, “I just love you a whole lot.”

The blood rushes to Castiel’s face and he glances down. He still isn’t used to the easy way that Dean loves. Castiel grew up with absent parents and workaholic older brothers that he barely knew in his life. _I love you_ isn’t something that comes easily to him the way that it does to Dean, who helps his mom in the garden just because he wants to, or wrestles with his younger brother that adores him, or that goes fishing with his dad and always smiles about it after.

Castiel gnaws on his lip and smiles when he looks back up at Dean and says, “I love you too.”

The words, as they always do, make him tremble. He doesn’t know that Dean feels the weight of the words like he does, like they’re strapped to his back. But somehow, even though loving Dean makes him feel scared, it also makes him feel wonderful.

Cas feels especially wonderful when Dean kisses him again, even if Sam happens to pass by the open bedroom door at exactly that moment and gives a scandalized shout of, “Mom, Dean and Cas are kissing!”

Mary’s voice says back from downstairs, “That’s nice, honey!”

Dean and Cas burst into laughter.

**X**

During the late morning on Dean’s parents’ anniversary weekend, the Impala pulls up to the Novak residence. Castiel glances over his shoulder, unsure if any of his brothers are home, and announces to the empty belly of the house, “I’m going out.”

The only voice that speaks back is the echo of his own in the foyer.

Before Dean can knock, Cas throws open the front door and meets him in the driveway. He wraps his arms around Dean’s neck and Dean grips Cas’ waist. There’s stiffness to the gesture, even as they kiss. Cas chocks it up to nervousness on both their parts, since neither of them has done this before. Both of them have kissed other people and Dean says that a girl once let him feel under her shirt, but anything beyond that they’ve learned from each other.

And this is it, the big moment, the thing that so many people talk about doing.

Castiel is going to lose his virginity.

He told himself that he wouldn’t glorify it, but it’s hard not to be nervous and think of this all as _big_ , even as he and Dean climb into the Impala like normal and one of Dean’s classic rock tapes comes to life in the deck, filling the inside of the car with the sound of an electric guitar.

This is how they always are. They always like to drive together. They always listen to Dean’s classic rock tapes. Castiel always spaces out and stares out the window, and Dean always starts to sing along to the music under his breath because he thinks that Cas isn’t paying attention.

Dean parks the Impala in the garage instead of its usual place against the curb, because his parents’ car is at the airport and he has free reign – that, and “Pigeons won’t shit on my baby,” as Dean mutters when they walk in the house.

Castiel’s palms start to sweat when he and Dean head up the stairs and into his bedroom. Even though there’s nobody in the house, Dean still closes the door behind him. Cas lets out a shaky breath before he goes for the zipper on his sweatshirt. He and Dean arranged how they’re planning to do this so that there wouldn’t be any surprises. Castiel is going to be on bottom for the first time because Dean’s too nervous to try it himself, and they’re going to do it face to face so that they can look at each other when it happens.

The getting-off-clothes part is a little awkward, though. Cas wants to watch Dean, so he pauses after he shrugs his sweatshirt onto the floor. Dean pulls his Metallica t-shirt up over his head. Fascinated, Castiel watches the muscles of Dean’s back tighten and relax as he throws his shirt aside. He doesn’t notice Cas staring, just reaches for his belt and unbuckles it, shucking off his jeans and then his plaid boxer shorts.

Dean turns around and cocks a brow, “See something you like?”

Castiel has to swallow to wet his throat. Dean is lean and his shoulders freckled, which Castiel knew. He also already knew that Dean is circumcised and that his cock is thicker than Castiel’s own, and he already knew how much he liked that cock. But he’s never seen all the pieces of Dean in the nude revealed together, and it makes his erection twinge with interest.

“You, um,” Cas chews his lips and scratches at the back of his neck, “You’re really beautiful, Dean.”

“Aw, jeez,” Dean says. His face turns pink, but the smile that lights up his eyes is genuine. Even so, Castiel’s nerves buzz through him like a toxic drug, his brain fuzzy and his limbs heavier than they should be. His fingers stutter over the fly of his jeans when he reaches for it and he curses his clumsiness, but Dean doesn’t seem to mind. He watches Castiel just like Castiel watched him, and that at least is kind of nice.

Undressing is less fluid for Castiel than it is for Dean, but the interest in Dean’s face keeps him going. Cas sheds his jeans and pulls his t-shirt over his head. His skin is a little more golden-tan than Dean’s, mostly from summer practice for the cross country team and the subsequent fall season. When Dean’s eyes drop to the clear outline of Cas’ erection in his boxer briefs, heat starts to fill Cas’ body.

He finally shimmies out of his underwear.

Dean lets out a low whistle and says, “Damn, Cas. I knew you were hot, but _damn_.”

Cas wraps his arms around himself and murmurs, “Thank you, Dean.”

Silence falls over them and Castiel doesn’t know what they’re supposed to do next. He read the pamphlets, of course, but the pamphlets tell you nothing about how to socially handle sex, or how to proceed with grace when you’re about to be fucked by your boyfriend for the first time ever.

Dean coughs and says, “Maybe we should get on the bed.”

“Yes,” Castiel agrees. Happy to have something that he can do, he crawls up over the mattress and situates himself, leaning with his head back against Dean’s pillows. Dean’s bed has always been nice and comfy, but today Castiel is hyperaware of ever fiber touching his back.

“I read, um,” Dean swallows, “I read online that it’s easier for you if we prop your back up with a pillow.”

“Oh,” says Cas, “Okay. Let’s do that, then.”

Dean crawls over Cas, but not really in a sexy kind of way, as far as Castiel can tell. He tries to wiggle one of his pillows out from underneath Cas’ head with little success and says, “Hey, Cas, sit up for a sec.”

Castiel does, only he bumps his head into Dean’s. They both make an unhappy noise. Dean still reaches around and grabs a pillow, setting it down behind Cas. He instructs, “All right. Lie back so that your lower back is on that pillow. Let’s see how this works.”

Cas obeys.

He can feel now why the internet advised Dean to do this. His ass is tilted up just enough more to give Dean easier access, and it feels weird to lie rigidly so his legs fall apart. The feeling of being exposed creeps over Castiel but he battles it, telling himself that he’s being irrational and that it’s just Dean. He knows Dean. Dean is his boyfriend and has been since before Castiel even turned fourteen. Now they’re sixteen and they’re trying something new together and he has no reason to be afraid.

They even planned it all out to avoid anything unexpected.

Above him, Dean blows all the air out of his lungs. He says, “Let’s get this party started.”

Cas chuckles, and that at least makes him feel at ease. He watches Dean as he slips off of the bed and digs around underneath it. He retrieves one of the condoms that Cas brought back from Planned Parenthood and what appears to be every last packet of lube.

“Okay,” Dean says, though it sounds more like he’s talking to myself, “I think I have to, um. I have to get you ready first.” He licks his lips and rips open one of the lubricant packets. Unfortunately, Dean squeezes it too hard and lube goes flying everywhere.

“Damn it,” Dean swears, and reaches for another. This one takes more time to open with Dean’s palm being slippery with enough lube to make grasping things difficult, but not enough to start touching Castiel. This time, he squeezes it onto his fingers and rubs it between them with a curious, “Huh.”

“What?”

“Feels weird.”

Dean doesn’t say anything more, just scoots forward and pushes Cas’ legs a little further apart. The tips of his fingers skate over the skin of his ass and with shaking hands he makes a gawky exploration of Cas’ body before slipping one finger directly inside.

It is cold and very surprising, enough that Cas yelps and says, “Whoa.”

“Sorry,” Dean says, “You okay?”

“I think so,” Castiel says. He gives an experimental shift of his hips. It doesn’t feel bad, but he doesn’t know that it feels good, either. It definitely feels _different_. There’s something there but somehow it feels like not nearly enough, even as Dean starts to move his hand, rubbing Castiel on the inside. He does this for some time, focused and concentrated, almost clinical about the way that he handles Castiel, until the tip of his finger catches against something that makes Cas let out an interested noise and an, “I like that.”

But Dean doesn’t find the spot again, and he pauses to open another package of lube before he pushes two fingers inside. That definitely is far more of a stretch than just the one – Dean has thick, calloused fingers that normally Castiel loves, but he can’t help but think that this might be easier if Dean’s hands looked more like his own, slender and long-fingered.

Then Dean does the same thing with three fingers, except now it actually stings a little. When Dean sees the crinkle in Cas’ brow, he asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Hurts,” Cas says.

“Fuck,” Dean curses, and pulls back his hand. He runs his dry hand through his hair and asks, “I mean, uh. Are you sure you still wanna do this? I don’t wanna hurt you, dude.”

“Yes,” Castiel petulantly replies, “Of course I want to do it. I’m okay with a little soreness.”

When silence rolls out between them, Castiel asks, “Are _you_ okay with this still?”

Dean blinks and says, “Yeah. I guess. I’m just worried about doing it wrong.”

“That’s why we planned out for it,” Castiel says, “We’ll be okay.”

A little half-smile appears on Dean’s face and he agrees, “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

With that, Dean reaches for the little foil-covered condom and rips it open with his teeth. He starts to roll it over his erection, but Cas exclaims, “Dean!”

“What?”

“You’re putting the condom on wrong,” he scolds, “You’re supposed to pinch the tip. Didn’t you read the pamphlets at all? There’s even a diagram.”

“I know, I know,” Dean says, and adjusts his hands so he’s doing it properly, “Sorry. Forgot.”

Castiel doesn’t bother to respond to that. He rolls his eyes at Dean’s ceiling, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars that have been stuck there since they were kids, back when Dean was going through a thing with astronauts and outer space. That ended after his first ride in a plane – eighth grade, for their trip to DC – when the plane flew through a storm and experience turbulence that had Dean vomiting in the airplane bathroom.

Castiel probably shouldn’t think of his boyfriend vomiting while he’s getting ready to have sex with him for the first time. He turns his attention back to Dean, who has now emptied two more packets of lube onto his cock, tongue sticking out between his teeth as he slicks it over the entire length.

Dean catches Castiel staring and asks, “You ready?”

“I think so,” Castiel says.

Dean takes his erection in hand and wriggles up a little further on the Star Wars bedspread.  Castiel feels the stretch of the tip breaching him and it’s not so bad until it is. It’s really bad, and it hurts, but he doesn’t say so because he doesn’t want to ruin this for them so he just tries to make himself relax and focuses on his breathing instead of Dean sliding into him inch by inch.

It doesn’t even occur to Castiel that Dean is feeling something too until he makes himself look back at him and sees a sheen of sweat on Dean’s forehead and a flush on his chest and in his cheeks, almost like he has a fever.

“Are you okay?” Castiel asks.

Dean manages to get out, “Y-Yeah. It’s really good. I don’t know how long I can last,” Dean pauses and his eyes fall to where Cas’ cock has gone soft against his belly. He frowns and asks, “You all good? You’re not hard anymore.”

“It hurts a little, but I think I’m okay,” Cas says. Now that he’s had time to adjust, it isn’t so bad.

So when Dean announces, “I’m gonna go, then,” Cas doesn’t stop him.

With a roll of his hips, Dean draws out of Cas’ body and then back in. He shudders and moans but for Castiel it mostly just stings and he isn’t sure that he likes it at all. Dean keeps this clinical pace for a handful of seconds, but he starts to tremble.

“You can go faster,” Cas tells him.

Dean does. It hurts a lot more that way, but that’s okay, because it doesn’t last long – in no more than a minute and a half, Dean is bent over Castiel and whining out an orgasm, kissing over Cas’ chest. He doesn’t move afterward for a while, but when he does, the sound of their skin unsticking is too loud in the empty bedroom.

“You want me to get you –”

“I’m okay,” Cas says.

Dean frowns and his brows knit together. He says, “It, um. It wasn’t that good, was it?”

“It was fine.” Castiel means this to be reassuring, but judging by the look on Dean’s face, it has exactly the opposite of the intended effect. Dean looks embarrassed for a moment, and then he looks absolutely crestfallen.

“Damn it,” Dean says, “I really wanted it to be – I tried hard and I Googled everything and I read the stupid pamphlets and I still did a shitty job. God, I fucked that up. Why didn’t you say something? I just – humped the shit out of you and you’re not even hard and all you can tell me is it was _fine_. Why didn’t you stop me?”

“Because I didn’t want to hurt your feelings!” Castiel exclaims. He sits up but winces at the pain that shoots through his body at the sudden movement, “I said it was fine and I meant it. We can try again later.”

Dean snaps, “I don’t want to try again later.”

“You don’t – what do you mean?” Castiel asks. His heart starts to beat panicked blood into his veins. Dean can’t mean what he thinks Dean means, right?

“This isn’t gonna work, Cas,” Dean says, “I fucked you up. I mean, you’re _hurting_ , and I did that, and you wouldn’t tell me that I hurt you because of me and this is just really bad. So I’m calling it quits.”

“You – you’re dumping me?” Castiel says.

“No. Well, kind of. If we can’t do this then maybe we’re not cut out for each other,” Dean says, “Your stupid sex pamphlets said that you have to communicate and you didn’t tell me when you were hurting!”

Castiel can’t think of anything to say. He just slips off of the bed and awkwardly hobbles to his underwear. It hurts to bend over to gather his clothes and he knows that Dean can hear his breath catch, but neither of them says anything.

“You, uh,” Dean starts, “Let me give you a ride back to your place.”

“No, thank you,” Castiel says as he buttons his jeans.

“Cas, c’mon, you can’t walk home all busted up,” Dean says.

Castiel aims a glare at him and says, “I can and I will. I don’t want to be in a car with you right now. Or anymore at all. I will take the bus on Monday. Goodbye, Dean.”

“Cas,” Dean says, but Castiel zips up his sweatshirt and makes his escape before Dean can say another word. He shoves his sneakers onto his feet at the front door and even though he hears Dean call out again behind him, Castiel flees out to the sidewalk. From Dean’s house to his is about a half-hour walk.

It’ll hurt, but no more than it would hurt to sit in a car with his ex-boyfriend for five minutes.

**X**

The week that follows is one of the worst weeks of Castiel’s life, and that includes sixth grade when his cat Nickel was hit by a car. He spent that entire week in tears with Dean consoling him, even though Dean never even liked Nickel and always sneezed when he was around. Naturally, thinking of this reminds him of Dean again, how sweet he was when Cas needed the help and how he always dropped everything to be there when Cas asked it of him.

He thinks of their first kiss, how they’d been sitting on the couch in Dean’s basement watching Stargate, and how Cas mentioned that he met a boy he liked in the GSA and thought maybe he should tell him. Dean told him that he shouldn’t do it, and when Cas asked why, Dean leaned over and they kissed. Dean tasted like Cheetos and soda pop, but his lips were warm and he threaded his fingers in Cas’ hair.

On Sunday, Castiel cries quietly by himself underneath his blankets. When he comes down to dinner with red-rimmed eyes, none of his brothers ask him what’s wrong.

On Monday, Castiel takes the bus for the first time since Dean got his driver’s license. He sticks to the faux-leather seat and every time the bus hits a bump, his sore ass bounces down and hurts; he also ends up crunched against a kid in glasses that smells like ketchup. When he sees Dean in the hallway, he flees to the boy’s bathroom and hides in one of the stalls until the bell rings. He’d rather be late for class than hurt any more than he has to.

On Tuesday, Charlie passes Castiel a note in their English class and asks him what’s going on. Castiel writes back and tells her to leave him alone. She does.

On Wednesday, Charlie apparently gets tired of leaving Castiel alone and corners him in the hallway between classes.

She demands, “Okay, buddy. Dean won’t talk to me and you won’t talk to me, but I’m through with that. You’re gonna tell me what happened right now or – or – or so help me God I’ll kill your Cleric.”

Charlie threatening to off Castiel’s Dungeons & Dragons character is about as serious as it gets, but he still isn’t going to talk to her. His Cleric doesn’t matter anymore anyway, since he doesn’t intend to participate in a game that includes Dean in it.

Cas tries to back away from her and says, “It’s none of your business.”

“Of course it’s my business, you doof,” Charlie says, “You and Dean are my best friends, and I’ve never seen you guys this sad in my life. Please, Cas. Just tell me what happened.”

Castiel hesitates. Charlie _is_ their best friend. Neither he nor Dean met her until their freshman year of high school, when Cas tentatively joined the GSA, but she’s stuck by them both ever since. He shouldn’t make her a victim of this, too. She deserves better than that.

“Dean dumped me,” he says.

“ _What_?” Charlie says.

“Dean dumped me,” Castiel repeats, “We, um. We had sex. For the first time. And it hurt, and I didn’t tell Dean it hurt, and we even mapped out everything that needed to happen and we were still awful. So Dean dumped me.”

Charlie frowns at him. She says, “I get the feeling that isn’t the entire story, but I’ll let you off the hook for now. At least I’ve got a jumping point now for talking to Dean. And for the record, if you need anything…I’m here, y’know? Text me.”

“Right,” Cas says.

Charlie hugs him, then. He stiffens initially but then wraps his arms around her back. Even if it’s a pity hug, the contact does make him feel a little better. Castiel still mopes his way through his Physics class and spends the night scrolling through pictures of cats instead of doing his homework.

On Thursday, Castiel does not go to the weekly D&D game. Instead, he rides the bus home beside the boy that smells like ketchup and wastes the rest of the evening sleeping between reruns of Law & Order: SVU and snacking on his stash of junk food. When he looks at his phone before he goes to bed, he has seven missed calls from various members of the GSA, but none from Dean.

He turns off his phone and goes to sleep.

On Friday, Castiel misses the bus and has to walk to school. He doesn’t make it there until an entire class period has passed by, but can’t find it in him to care. He doesn’t want to care. He doesn’t want to care about anything ever again because he never cared about anybody as much as he cared about Dean, and just look at how that played out.

His Physics teacher lets him eat his lunch alone in the classroom, and when the day ends, he shuts off his phone again so that nobody can make him leave the safety of his bed.

On Saturday, Castiel wakes with a headache pounding in his ears. When he forces himself downstairs to get some Advil from the medicine cabinet in the kitchen, he discovers a note from Michael detailing that he’s been called away on business and won’t be back until Tuesday of the following week.

The quiet of the house leads him to believe that his other brothers have disappeared elsewhere, too. Castiel can’t decide if he feels better or worse being alone in his house.

His headache clears up after an hour or so of being flopped over their leather couch in his pajamas, flipping through channels to avoid watching commercials and wishing that they had Netflix like the Winchesters do.

Just as he laments, the doorbell rings.

And when Castiel opens the door, there is a Winchester on the stoop.

Dean Winchester.

He’s tempted to shut the door in Dean’s face and retreat upstairs to his bedroom to hide in a nest of blankets and his own misery, but something stops him. Castiel shuffles and asks, “What are you doing here?”

Dean swallows and shifts to peer behind Cas. He asks, “Your brothers home?” Castiel shakes his head. “Can I come in?”

“I suppose,” Castiel says, though that is a terrible idea.

Dean steps inside and Castiel closes the front door behind him. For a little while, it’s quiet and awkward and feels like every awful thing in the universe is bearing down on them. They’re not boyfriends anymore. Castiel doesn’t even know if they’re friends anymore. He wants to crumple up on the couch at the thought and watch Lifetime movies until everything stops being terrible.

This is until Dean blurts out, “I miss you so much.”

Castiel gawks at him for a second, but only a second, before he says, “I miss you too.”

“I fucked up,” Dean says, “I fucked up bad. This week was the worst week in the history of ever, because I didn’t have you in it. I’m so damn sorry, Cas. Please –”

Castiel leaps across the space between them and throws his arms around Dean’s neck. He kisses him and kisses him hard. His whole body feels like there’s fire inside him, happy fire. He missed Dean’s lips so much – chapped, but warm, and when Dean opens his mouth and Castiel presses his tongue inside, Dean tastes like his breakfast. Cas can’t find the energy to care that Dean didn’t bother to brush his teeth before driving over here.

“Cas,” Dean breathes when they break apart, and he presses kisses along the unshaven side of Cas’ jaw, “Missed you so much, baby.”

Their lips lock together again, heavy and happy and hard. Castiel doesn’t realize that Dean is backing him into the family room until they trip over the arm of the couch and land in a heap on the cushions, limbs tangled. Dean laughs, and Castiel laughs, but the laughter cuts off when Dean shifts his body and they both feel –

They’re both hard. Cas looks up at Dean wide-eyed and doesn’t know how to handle any of this. But Dean doesn’t tell him what he’s supposed to do, so Castiel just rolls with his gut instinct and presses his hips up against Dean’s. Dean groans and leans over to kiss Castiel again. This kiss is sloppier, needier.

Castiel likes it.

He moves his hips back up again, rolling against Dean in a rhythm that he didn’t know that he knew. Dean presses back, and both of them laugh breathlessly between kisses until laughing dissolves into something else. Dean starts to kiss Castiel’s neck. Cas can feel tongue and teeth as the move against each other in sync.

“I love you,” Castiel says.

Dean stills. He shifts to look Cas in the eye and says, “You’ve never said that first before.”

“I haven’t?” Castiel asks, and then realizes that Dean is right. When he finally worked up the courage to say that he loves Dean, it was only ever in response to Dean’s declaration first. Castiel reaches for Dean’s hand and squeezes it before he says, “I love you. First.”

Dean lets out a loud bark of laughter and bends down to kiss Cas again, this time soft and sweet before he says, “I love you, too,” and presses his erection into Cas’ through their pants.

Castiel whines and Dean does it again, but rubbing up against each other through their clothes isn’t enough. Cas wants more, _needs_ more. His hands move of their own volition and he grips Dean’s t-shirt, yanking it off over his head. Dean’s eyes are hooded, pupils wide. It makes Castiel squirm beneath him with _lust_. He didn’t know that he could lust for somebody, but here he is and it feels incredible.

Then Dean’s hands slip underneath Castiel’s shirt, palming over his abdomen and ribcage before they draw back and pull the shirt away entirely. Dean ducks down and kisses Castiel’s belly. It’s an odd place to kiss somebody, but Castiel likes it. He likes the way that Dean kisses up from his stomach and over his ribs and the way that his gray-green eyes flicker up to meet Castiel’s gaze before he presses the flat of his tongue over one nipple.

“Fuck,” Castiel says.

Dean smirks. Castiel wants to be annoyed with him, but instead he just grabs Dean’s hair and pushes his head down so that he’ll do it again. Dean does, only this time he scrapes his teeth over the skin and teases noises from Castiel’s lips that he didn’t even know that he could make.

In an instant, Dean is off of him and reaching for the waistband of Castiel’s pajama pants. He hooks his fingers underneath and into Cas’ underwear before he pulls it all off in one go and leaves Castiel naked completely on the leather couch in the family room.

“I think you should be naked too,” Castiel says, and adds, “I like it when you’re naked.”

Dean smiles and presses a kiss to the corner of Castiel’s mouth before he stands up to undo his fly and pull down the rest of his clothing. Castiel hardly has time to admire Dean before he’s already climbed back on top of Cas and kisses him again. This time, they’re skin on skin, and the heavy weight of Dean’s erection pressing up against Castiel’s belly makes him _want_.

“Dean,” he gasps, “Dean, I-I want –”

Dean’s breath ghosts over Castiel’s lips and he asks, “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Castiel says, “I’m so sure. Please.”

Dean draws back just a little and stretches to pick his jeans up off of the floor. From the right pocket, he retrieves one of the Planned Parenthood condoms and an unopened, fresh bottle of lubricant. Castiel lifts his brows and remarks, “Well, you were certainly optimistic.”

“More like hopeful,” Dean says. The smile that touches Dean’s lips is gentle, and it’s the nicest smile that Castiel has ever seen.

Castiel doesn’t need to be instructed or prompted this time. He blinks and Dean and makes a decision himself, flipping over onto his belly. He sends Dean a look over his shoulder and says, “I think I’d like to try it like this.”

Dean licks his lips and nods dumbly. He fumbles with the bottle of lube for a moment and pops the cap open, pouring it over his fingers. He sidles up behind Cas and with his dry hand massages Cas’ shoulder, rubbing in circles just as the wet press of his finger starts to breach Castiel. This time, Dean presses into that _spot_ almost immediately, and Castiel jerks back onto his hand with a groan.

So Dean does it again.

And again.

And finally, he presses once more and Castiel lets out a dry gasp, right before he comes onto the couch, harder than he’s ever come before. Dean swears, “Damn. You want me to stop?”

“No,” Castiel says, “It feels really good. Keep going.” His body is relaxed and buzzing with the pleasant aftermath of his orgasm. For some reason, this makes it feel even nicer when Dean pushes two fingers inside him and starts to massage. It feels good, but it also feels like it isn’t enough.

“More, please,” Castiel says, and wriggles back.

Dean bends over and kisses Cas’ shoulder blade. He says, “Hold your horses, bucky. I’m takin’ care of you.”

So Castiel endures the torture of not being filled enough, of Dean strumming his fingers over that spot inside Castiel like Cas is an instrument and Dean is a seasoned musician. The pleasure makes Cas pliant, putty in Dean’s hands. His limbs melt and when Dean finally slides a third finger inside, it stretches, but it doesn’t hurt.

Cas works on instinct. He likes the way that Dean’s fingers feel inside him, and so he shifts back to take more. With each thrust of Dean’s hand, Castiel rides back to meet it. It feels better than he ever knew that he could feel, so good that he can’t stand it.

When Dean pulls back his hand, Castiel whines. He feels cold and empty without Dean to fill him. Castiel peers over his shoulder and watches Dean rip open the condom packet. He rolls it on over his flushed erection and Castiel realizes that he hasn’t done a single thing to make Dean feel good, that Dean has done nothing today but pay full attention to Cas.

Well, that simply has to change. Dean opens the lube and applies more over his cock. When he catches Castiel looking, he grins wide. There is probably nothing in the world that looks better than Dean Winchester kneeling behind Castiel with his legs apart and his hand running over himself, lips parted and breath coming in quick pants.

“Please,” Castiel says, and hopes that this will urge Dean to hurry up.

It does. Dean closes the space between them and rains kisses over Cas’ back. One hand reaches to stroke fingertips over Cas’ nipple as the head of Dean’s cock slides inside. It stretches and feels full, and maybe if Castiel shifts too quickly there’s a little bite to the movement, but this isn’t anything like it felt before. This is good.

“More,” he urges.

“Jesus, Cas,” Dean murmurs, but he listens. He bottoms out inside Castiel and it’s the best thing that Cas has ever felt, being filled up with Dean’s arms boxing him in, Dean’s chest pressed to his back, Dean’s lips on the back of his neck.

The movement of Dean’s hips comes naturally. He rocks back and forward inside Castiel, slow and steady at first. But Dean builds on it, movements quick and hard but still at that steady pace. Cas pushes his ass up to take more, legs sliding further apart on the couch as Dean thrusts into him. Dean moans and whispers something about how good Cas looks like this.

“Hey, um,” Dean says, “I’m gonna…gonna come.”

Castiel takes that cue to shove back against Dean and swallow every inch of cock that he can. Dean lets out a stunned, broken noise. On either side of Cas, Dean’s arms tremble with the weight of his orgasm. He shakes so long that Castiel can’t help but smirk, knowing that he was the one that made Dean come so hard that he can’t speak.

It takes a full two minutes of panting before Dean finally pulls out of Castiel. He gulps in air and says, “Maybe we should, uh, clean the couch up.”

Castiel glances down at the puddle of come and shine of sweat. He laughs. He doesn’t know why. He just laughs and laughs, maybe because this couch cost a couple thousand dollars and when he’s home, Michael meticulously runs over it with the leather cleaner and conditioner.

It takes a second for Castiel to collect himself, but when he does, he stumbles toward the kitchen to collect a dish towel and run it under the tap for a moment. He returns to the family room to see Dean pulling his boxers back up over his hips and can’t help but think what a shame it is that Dean can’t be naked all the time.

“Man, I’m starving,” Dean says.

“We could order pizza,” suggests Castiel, “Michael left money since he’s gone on business.”

“Cool,” Dean agrees.

In the next half hour, the couch is cleaned, Castiel changes into a fresh set of pajamas, the pizza arrives at the door, and they settle onto the same couch in a pile of blankets to watch Buffy: The Vampire Slayer together. Dean lies on his back and Castiel sprawls himself belly-down on top of Dean. It’s an awkward position for pizza eating, but perfect for cheesy-saucy kisses in between bites.

“I love you,” Castiel repeats, when the pizza is gone and they’re left wrapped together in a nest of blankets.

“Love you too,” Dean says. His voice is rough and used.

Castiel likes it.

Tentatively, Castiel shifts to look Dean in the eye. He chews on his lower lip and asks, “Does this mean…I mean, can we be boyfriends again?”

“Dude, I’d be pissed if we weren’t,” Dean says, and leans down to catch Cas’ lips in a sleepy, tender kiss.

Maybe, Castiel thinks, things are sometimes better when they aren’t planned.

 


End file.
